


The Moments Between

by Kayla_James



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4946527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayla_James/pseuds/Kayla_James
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Female Human Rogue Inquisitor/Cullen romance with other character interaction.  Starts at the beginning of DA:I and hopefully will continue beyond Trespasser.</p><p>Updated 11.5.15</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 

The concept that perhaps one might have seen it all was a dangerous one.  Having survived demons, a Blight, and the start of the Mage-Templar War, it had seemed to Commander Cullen Rutherford that peace would finally be achieved in Thedas.

 

That morning he had watched as both sides of the conflict had marched from Haven to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.  The day had started with such potential, such promise that there would be an end to the war.  He had ignored the nagging voice in his mind that it could all go horribly wrong again in the blink of an eye.  In hindsight he should have listened to that voice, he should have drawn on the experience Kinloch Hold and Kirkwall had provided for him.  If he had then perhaps the Temple would still be in tact and the peace talks could have proven successful.  Perhaps if he had listened, he wouldn’t have been thrown to the Chantry floor by the force massive explosion that consumed the Temple and those inside.  Racing outside his eyes had instantly fallen upon the sickly green glow of the massive tear in the Veil that that had formed above the Temple.

 

It had taken very little time to gather his soldiers and race with his forces to the Temple to join search for survivors.  The blast had shook the entire town, and most of his soldiers were waiting at the gates when he arrived.  The scouts who had been going about their duties near the Temple had been the first to arrive, reporting that no one in the outermost parts of the Temple had survived.  At first he believed no one would be found based on the horrors that greeted them in the outermost section of the destroyed holy site.  The Temple was silent, charred remains frozen in place, the horror of their final moments preserved in their mangled and twisted forms.  A pit had formed in the Commander’s stomach as he took in the scene.  He could not even begin to imagine what had caused so much destruction.  So many lives wasted and lost in the blink of an eye.

 

“Commander,” a scout called, drawing Cullen from his observations, “we need you inside.”

 

Quickening his pace, he made his way into what was once the inside of the refurbished Temple of Sacred Ashes.  They had found a survivor, perhaps they might yet have some answers.  Yet they had found someone so near to the blast point, surely if someone had survived the explosion they had played some part in its creation.  How anyone could have escaped the death that surrounded them caused Cullen to approach warily, taking in the scene around him as he walked to the center of the site.

 

“When we arrived several spirits had come through the rift,” the scout told him.  “We made quick work of them, Commander, but after...a woman emerged from the Breach.”

 

“I’m sorry, she emerged from...the breach?” Cullen asked, looking at the scout who merely nodded.

 

“She collapsed, ser,” the scout added as the approached the scene.  It seemed this woman was indeed more than a mere survivor.  “One of the other scouts claimed to see another figure behind her, but only this woman came through the breach.”

 

In the center of the large hall he saw a body of a woman motionless on the ground.  Several of the Inquisition's soldiers had surrounded her from a short distance, weapons at the ready.  None of the soldiers seemed willing to approach the unmoving figure and Cullen shook his head.  She seemed relatively small, her figure slight, surely a dozen trained soldiers would have been able to handle any trouble from this woman.  As he drew near to her his eyes finally noticed the reason for his soldiers’ apprehension.  Her left hand had been marked with what looked like a small version of the rift and it glowed with the same sickly green as the sky above them.

 

“Maker’s breath,” he said softly, lifting her palm to examine the mark more closely.  He noted the slight crackling coming from the mark, surely a connection to the tear in the Veil.  Her face creased slightly, almost as if the mark were causing her pain.

 

“Find the Hands,” Cullen ordered, releasing her wrists and studying the culprit before him for a moment.  She was young, of that much he was certain, but her appearance gave away little else about her history.  Her clothes were simple, but her ungloved hands showed no sign of coming from a commoner’s background.  They were smooth, her fingers well manicured.  With a sigh he shook his head, she hardly looked the part of the mastermind behind the explosion just the daughter of some Chantry patron perhaps.  However, he had learned to never underestimate a woman based on looks alone.  Carefully he searched her for weapons, finding a small dagger hidden in her vest pocket.  

 

With another sigh, he lifted her off the ground, noting that those around him seemed frozen as they watched him.  The scout he had directed his previous order to had remained rooted in place and he shook his head.  Even if this woman was behind all the destruction that surrounded him it would do no good for the Inquisition’s forces to suddenly forget all of their training.

 

“Find the Hands,” he said in a firm tone.  “Tell them what has happened...and have them meet me in Haven.”

 

“Yes, Commander,” the scout stammered before scurrying off.

 

“You two, with me,” he barked at the two nearest solders.  “The rest of you, stay on your guard.  We don’t yet know what caused that thing...or what else might come out of it.”

 

“Commander,” another scout said as he began making his way out of the Temple, “there’s been a report of a smaller rift opening up further down the mountain.”

 

“Of course there is,” Cullen said, shaking his head.  “Send a group to deal with whatever comes through it.  The village must not be reached.”

 

He didn’t wait for the response, but simply turned to deliver the prisoner to his colleagues who would surely be able to get the woman to divulge the details of what had occurred within the walls of the Temple.  It was not his skill set to deal with the interrogation of prisoners...he was needed on the mountain to keep whatever the Fade spit out at them from making to the innocents below in Haven.

 

 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

The days immediately following the devastation at the Conclave were a blurr.  Granted, Evelyn Trevelyan had unconcious for the first few days, but when she did finally did wake everything seemed like some sort of strange dream.  Nearly everyone in the town was referring to her as the ‘Herald of Andraste’ and whenever she heard the title she had to fight the urge to wish the ground would open and swallow her whole.  The moment she had stepped out of that rift and survived the massacre at the Conclave she had forfeited the life she knew and she was desperately trying to adjust to her new reality.

 

Rising early she had managed to slip past the training area and down to the lake to spend a few quiet moments alone.  Finding a quiet spot behind a large bolder she positioned herself out of sight of the village, pulling her cloak around her tightly.  It was a cool morning, the wind nipping at the strands of hair that had escaped from her long auburn braid.  Removing her gloves she studied her hands for a moment.  Her left palm forever to be marked it seemed by the glowing green mark that had the power to close the rifts.

 

Evelyn had received word late last night that she would be leaving for the Hintherlands the following morning with Cassandra, Varric, and Solas.  The Inquisition advisors had received word of a Revered Mother who might be able to help them gain support among the Chantry clerics and she was to ride out to help convince this woman to join their cause.  Without this Revered Mother there seemed little hope in getting the Chantry to reverse their position and call off their demands that Evelyn be brought before them to be tried for the murders of so many innocents at the Conclave.

 

The crunching of snow beneath boots drew Evelyn from her thoughts and her fingers reached for the dagger in her boot as she looked in the direction of the footsteps.  Her breath quickened and she waited for the owner of the feet to round the corner, ready for anything given the events of the past few days.  Brown eyes met her blue as the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces peered around the boulder.  She let out an exhale of relief, releasing the hidden dagger and sinking back against the boulder once more.  Her eyes, however, remained fixed on the man who was now blocking her path back to the village.

 

Evelyn knew a little about the man before her, of course most of her knowledge was things she had heard second hand and what little she could draw from him over the last few days in Haven.  He was a former Templar, a soldier, and everything about him physically spoke of the years of training her had received.  News of the uprising in Kirkwall and his attempt to put the pieces back together had travelled through the Free Marches.  Cassandra had managed to recruit him to the Inquisition and, given the haunted look that had taken over his features when Evelyn questioned him about his past, she doubted the Seeker had been forced to work very hard to convince the Commander to leave the order.

 

“I apologize if I startled you, Herald,” he said.  “I noticed your footprints in the snow that fell overnight while I was doing my rounds this morning and I thought it warranted further investigation.  I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

 

“It’s fine,” she said, offering him a small smile.  “I should have notified someone that I was going for a walk.  I just didn’t think anyone else would be up at this hour.”

 

He nodded, as if he was about to leave her to her solitude and she turned her attention back to the lake curling her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees.  It only took a moment for her to realize she didn’t hear his retreating footsteps and she glanced back over just as he spoke again.

 

“Is everything alright, Herald?” he asked, still watching her with his warm brown eyes and she tried to not stiffen at his use of the still unfamiliar title.  “I don’t mean to pry, I just…I’m sure the last few days have been a lot to process.”

 

“Everything is as fine as it can be.  Thank you, Commander,” Evelyn replied, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear and watching him for a moment.  “As you said, it’s simply been a lot to process.”

 

With everything that had happened the only other member of the group who had inquired as to how she was handling things had been Varric.  Evelyn had made the assumption that the others were simply there to do their jobs and would be keeping their distance from the newcomer.  Cullen had been friendly enough when engaged in conversation, but they were still strangers and there were walls they had both put up.  She had noted the day before that when he was unsure or uncomfortable he would shift slightly, sometimes rubbing the back of his neck.  He had done so a moment ago while trying to inquire after her mental state and Evelyn had been unable to stop the slight smirk that had tugged at the corner of her mouth.  

 

Standing, she brushed the dirt and leaves off the back of her cloak before taking a step towards him knowing she had probably lingered in the secluded spot long enough.  If he had grown curious about the footsteps leading down to the lake it would only be a matter of time before her absence from the village was noticed.

 

“Would you mind company on the walk back?” she asked.

 

“Not at all, Herald,” he said, and and she unsuccessfully fought back a sigh as she walked next to him.  She blushed slightly as he looked over at her and asked, “Have I said something wrong?”

 

“No,” Evelyn answered quickly.  “It’s just...I’m still not entirely used to the title, I suppose.  Less than a week ago I was no one of any importance, just a Chantry clerk.  Now it seems all of Thedas knows who I am and either wants me tried as a heretic or believes me to be some sort of divine savior.  I...I suppose I’m just having a harder time adjusting to it all then I care to admit.”

 

“I think we would all be more concerned if you didn’t feel that way,” was the response and she gave him a small smile as they continued their trek back to the village.

 

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying the quiet of the morning.  Haven was just starting to bustle in the distance, smoke just starting to rise from the chimneys and camps scattered through the village.  It would have been a picturesque scene, the little village in the snowy mountains, except for the sickly green rift in the sky overhead.

 

“How are the new recruits fairing?” she asked after a moment.  The other day she had been familiarizing herself with the layout of the village and had stopped to observe a training session.  He had been barking orders at the trainees when she had first arrived.

 

“Better,” he said, glancing over at her.  “Which reminds me...there is something I’ve been meaning to speak with you about.  Cassandra has assured me that you are capable of taking care of yourself on a field of battle, but I was curious what training you have received.  Given what you told us of your background with the Chantry I find myself curious as to who it was that instructed you...most of the Chantry clerks I’ve encountered do not keep a dagger in their boot.”

 

Evelyn smirked as she looked at him and countered, “Not every man has your chivalrous nature, Commander.”  She thought she could see a slight blush creeping into his cheeks and pressed on by adding, “The dagger was actually a gift from my mother.  When she was young she was robbed in the marketplace in Ostwick and she learned a few techniques to ensure that she would never again be such an easy target.”

 

The Commander raised an eyebrow at the explanation and she continued, “You would be surprised how many ladies carry a hidden dagger...and not always in their boot.”

 

He looked away, fixing his eyes on the village ahead of them.  Evelyn could see the pink of his cheeks deepening to a read and she couldn’t help the satisfied smile that formed on her lips.  Commander Cullen Rutherford was everything you would expect from a former Knight.  He was stoic, restrained, reserved...and Evelyn very much enjoyed eliciting a blush or a smile from the usually serious man.

 

“Be that as it may,” he said, obviously trying to regain his composer, “that doesn’t exactly answer the question of training.  One might ask if you’re purposely trying to avoid the topic.”

 

“I am the only girl from a family with six children,” she told him.  “As the baby of the family my brothers doted on me and usually did whatever I asked.  So, whenever I could escape lessons in etiquette or tea with the countless nobles my parents were trying to impress, I would sneak off with my brothers and learn whatever I could from them.”

 

They had reached gates which stood open and she said, “I understand your concerns, Commander.  However, I have been well taught and you need not add me to your list of worries.”  That earned her a small, somewhat unsure smile.

 

“It is part of my job, Herald,” he replied.

 

With another smirk and added before she could think better of it, “Well, perhaps when I return from this little adventure we should arrange a time in the training yard so you can first hand how I handle myself...on the field of battle.”

 

Flirting was a defense mechanism to Evelyn.  It kept her conversation companion off balance and therefore she remained in control of the situation.  If she could keep him blushing then perhaps he would stop asking questions about her.  Of course, it was an added bonus that the Commander not only blushed again, but shuffled slightly while rubbing the back of his neck.  The double meaning of her words and slight pause to allow for both meanings to sink in had apparently not been lost on the former Templar.

 

“Unless of course all that time at the war table has made caused you to lose your edge,” she finished, crossing her arms over her chest slightly triumphant that she had cracked his stoic demeanor.

 

“Certainly not,” he said with a smirk that matched her own.  “If you think you can pose a challenge then I’ll look forward to your return, Herald.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should finish my rounds.”

 

“See you at the war room this afternoon, Commander,” she said and watched him leave feeling a bit smug.

 

Turning to go through the gate after a moment, Evelyn glanced down at her left palm for a moment.  The Commander was an attractive man, but she would have to be careful that she did not encourage too much flirtation.  She had a job to do and there was no guaranteeing she would even survive closing the Breach.

 

She paused for a moment to survey the village and those around her as they went about their daily responsibilities.  She had spoken to nearly every person in Haven over the last few days and it had kept her sane.  If she was helping others then she did not have to think about the glowing make on her hand that could very well bring about her end.  It was a fine like to walk, to allow herself to help others without growing close to them.  They all had names, stories...and it meant deep down she was starting to care.

 

Shaking her head, she walked towards her cabin, trying desperately not to dwell on a future that had yet to be written.

 

 


	3. Chapter 2

The days in the Hintherlands turned into weeks.  Their original intention had been to secure Mother Giselle’s help and seek out a horse master.  Yet, those two tasks had only been the beginning of their travels.  So many needed help, and they encountered several rifts in their travels in need of closing.  The people of the Hintherlands needed someone to take their side and Evelyn had been unable to turn a blind eye.

 

Ravens came to and left their camps on a daily basis with reports.  After reading them over Cassandra had made a habit of passing them along to Evelyn, and she took that as a sign of the Seeker’s growing trust.  Recruits were trickling into Haven on a daily basis and agents acquired while in the field were proving to be useful.  The Inquisition was growing, much of that stemming directly from the work she was doing during their excursion, and Evelyn felt the weight of responsibility as their icon growing more with each passing day.  The group would begin the trip back to Haven in the morning, but as the camp fire slowly burned down in the dark of the night Evelyn found herself unable to sleep.

 

Holding the latest report from Haven, she sighed, poking at the fire a bit with a nearby stick.  She would have to travel to Val Royeaux soon and see if she could gain any favor with the Chantry.  It was a terrifying proposition and the fate of the organization seemed to rest squarely on her small shoulders.  After a lifetime of being a no one, the only daughter and youngest in a family of six, she wasn’t used to the fate of others resting on her shoulders.  It was very likely that she and anyone who accompanied her would be arrested the moment they set foot into the city.

 

“You okay, Herald?” a voice asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

 

Glancing at the speaker, she offered Varric a small, half smile in response to cover the stress she was feeling and said, “Of course, why do you ask?”

 

She had always been good at hiding her feelings, or so she thought.  Given her family’s position in Ostwick she was used to wearing a facade.  For a time she had fought back her disdain over possibly being practically sold to a man she wouldn’t love so she would no longer be her father’s burden.  She covered it well as she attended party after party where she was expected to charm any number of prospective husbands.  When she failed to attract one she had been shift off to the Chantry as a clerk, this time having to hide the hurt she felt at being cast aside by her parents.

 

“Well...I’m not sure what that report did to you, but I don’t think the Seeker will be thrilled to receive a crumpled ball back in the morning,” he said, pointing at her fist.

 

Evelyn glanced down at her hand and instantly felt a blush creep into her cheeks.  In her musings she hadn’t realized she had crumpled the paper into a ball.  It was now a mess of creases and folds, a relatively honest representation of how she was feeling at that moment.  The world was a mess, and everyone seemed to be looking to her to help put it right again.

 

“I suppose I’m just a little...stressed, I guess,” she said, trying not to let her embarrassment show.

 

“You’ve been spending too much time at night with those damn reports,” he told her, taking a flask from his pocket and passing it to her.

 

Evelyn sighed and took the flask.  She took a sip and managed only a small grimace as whatever was inside burned on the way down.  The liquid warmed her a bit and she passed the flask back to Varric who had taken a seat next to her near the fire.

 

“How else would I learn who now thinks I’m a raving lunatic set on destroying the Chantry and probably all of Thedas?” she asked with a smirk and earning a slight chuckle from her companion.  “I agreed to go to the Conclave as a clerk for a change of scenery...a break from the doldrums of everyday life in Ostwick.  I wanted to experience something important first hand and not just hear at a party.  I’m not a soldier...I’m not exceptionally devout...How can I live up to what the world wants me to be?”  She shook her head slightly, blushing again and added, “Sorry, Varric...I doubt you came out here to listen to my belly aching.”

 

He simply handed her the flask again and she took another drink.  They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just sharing whatever burning fluid his flask contained.  It helped numb the ache the stress caused in her head and chest and Evelyn relaxed a little more against the log behind her listening to the sounds of the night around them.

 

On the road there were moments she could almost forget how her life had been turned completely upside down in the blink of an eye.  She knew she should be grateful to be alive when so many at the Conclave had perished in a horrific death.  During the day, when they were helping others she could almost forget the overwhelming sense of dread that she had in regards to her future.  She could be selfless instead of selfish.  Yet in the stillness of the night there was little else to fill her mind.

 

“You’re a good person, Herald,” Varric said after a time.  “I’ve seen the way people look at you after you’ve helped them and you’re winning the hearts of the people in the Hintherlands.  Don’t focus on what the supposedly pious say, remember the people you’ve helped.  If I know nothing else, I know about heroes.”

 

“I’m not a hero, Varric,” Evelyn said with an appreciative half smile.  “I’m just a stupid girl who wandered too far from home because her life was too boring and is desperately trying to right an overwhelming wrong.  But, thank you.  I need the faith of others when I have none in myself.”

 

“We all have those days, Herald,” he said, getting up and brushing the dirt from his jacket.  “Just keep being you and you’ll have nothing to worry about from Val Royeux.”

 

Before he could retreat to his tent Evelyn said, “Varric, could I ask you something?”  
  


“Of course, Herald,” he said with a smirk.  “I can’t promise the answer won’t be slightly exaggerated however.”

 

She chuckled softly and responded, “I’m not terribly concerned about that.  I was just wondering why it is you call me by my title instead of a nickname like everyone else.  I mean...Cassandra I can understand using her title…”

 

“I considered giving her one once,” Varric told her.  “And then I figured she’d probably kill me and decided I valued life more than irritating our dear Seeker.”

 

“That was probably a wise decision, Master Tethras,” Evelyn answered with the first real smile she had given in quite some time.  “I’d like to think, however, that I’m not as intimidating as Cassandra.”  If nothing else life in Ostwick had taught her how to give the outward appearance of calm even when her mind screamed obscenities that would surely make a pirate blush.  

 

“Certainly not, Herald,” he said with a smirk.  “Nicknames, the ones that stick anyway, just happen in the moment.  Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll come up with one for you eventually.”

  
“I look forward to it, Varric,” Evelyn said with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a quick thank you for reading. Please feel free to review or message me privately if you have any comments. I love to hear from others.


	4. Chapter 3

The Chantry at Haven was silent when Evelyn pushed the door open.  They had only just returned to Haven from the Hinterlands two days ago, but it had been decided she would be riding out for Val Royeaux in a few days to address the Clerics.  It was late, or perhaps early depending on one’s perspective, but she couldn’t sleep even though she was aware that she would need rest if they were to travel again so soon.

 

Evelyn’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, her body sore and exhausted from travel.  While she had been relieved that Cassandra would be traveling with her to Val Royeaux, she couldn’t ignore the apprehension she felt that the Seeker would be leaving Haven.  It had only been that morning that she had witnessed the Commander step in and disperse a group of Templars and Mages who were arguing on the Chantry steps.  When he said he would keep the peace she had complete faith in his abilities, yet it made her wonder if it was wise to leave so quickly for another trip.

 

After dinner she had retired to her cabin, promising Varric that she would seek him out for drinks and stories another night.  Laying on her bed she had spent some time studying a knot in the wood of the wall as the fire in her fireplace burned down.  Her mind drifted over the events of the past few weeks, the Conclave, the Rifts, and the people in need of help.  Yet when sleep finally claimed her it had been the battles they encountered that entered her dreams uninvited.  She had woken with a gasp, feeling as if the walls were closing in on her.  Returning to sleep was certainly out of the question and she wondered if perhaps she should speak with Adan in the morning about something to help in the future.

 

Feeling the need to move and get fresh air she had put a warm tunic over her sleeping shift and pulled on her boots.  Wrapping a blanket around her like a cloak, she had ventured out into the freezing night.  The cold mountain air stung her lungs as she inhaled, but it reminded her she was both awake and alive.  It also took her mind off the ever present stinging of her left hand.  She had grown used to the feeling, able to ignore it for the most part, but she struggled in the silence of the night when her mind was plagued with the horrors she had experienced.

 

She had wandered through the sleeping village for a time before seeking refuge from the cold in the Chantry.  A few candles were lit as always, casting eerie shadows in the alcoves.  It was silent, and she had expected to find no one within its walls.  She had attended the prayers earlier in the evening when the building was bright with the warm light of many more candles and lanterns, the present was certainly a stark contrast.  There was something soothing about the space and the prayers.  Even if she her faith was not particularly strong, the familiarity had always been a source of comfort.

 

As she drew near the altar by the door to the war council room she froze, her feet stumbling a bit as she came to an abrupt stop and the sound echoing through the empty building.  She was not alone.  A man knelt in prayer near the altar and when a blond head snapped up at the noise she knew who it was before he even turned to look at her.  Even with his all too familiar armor missing and replaced by a tunic and leather breeches she knew the Commander instantly.

 

“Forgive me, Commander,” she said softly.  “I didn’t mean to disturb you.  I’ll leave you to your prayer.”

 

He had been absent from the prayers earlier.  She had noticed that he was one of the few she could not recall seeing praying with the people of Haven and it had struck her as odd given he had chosen a life of service to the Chantry.  Yet faith was a very personal topic, one she was not about to use to pass judgement.  As she turned to leave again, his voice brought her to a halt.

 

“Wait, you don’t have to leave on my account, Herald,” he said.  “I was nearly finished.”

 

He turned back again, his head dipping in prayer once more.  Evelyn weighed her options for a moment, holding the blanket firmly around her shoulders.  To leave now would be rude, yet she hated the feeling that she was intruding.  She shifted her feet quietly, finally deciding it would be best to be polite.  Quietly she allowed herself to sink onto one of the nearby benches, her gaze traveling up to the statue before her.  It wasn’t long before he straightened again, drawing Evelyn’s gaze.

 

“I apologize if I startled you,” she said softly before he could speak when he glanced over at where she had settled.  “I didn’t expect to find anyone in here at this hour.”

 

“There’s no need for apologies, Herald,” he said.  “I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

 

“You don’t need to hurry off,” she said in a rush.  “Although it is late, and I’m sure you have a lot of work to do in the morning and could use the rest.”

 

The silence of the night had driven her from the cabin she had been using as her private chambers, and suddenly the thought of him leaving her to the silence of the Chantry caused a slight panic.  She could feel her pulse quicken with something similar to fear at the thought of being alone once more.  He rose and moved to the unoccupied spot next to her on the bench and Evelyn shifted slightly resting her elbow on the back of the bench and her head on her hand.  Her hair fell over her shoulder.  If he had noticed her panic he had the decency not to say a word as he settled next to her.

 

From her current angle she could see his profile, strong and chiseled.  A thin scar ran up from his lip and from her current position she could see it clearly in the soft candlelight.  It seemed all too perfect for the man in charge of the Inquisition's forces.  Although in the candlelight the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, causing her to pause a moment in concern.

 

“We all have a lot of work keeping us from resting,” he said, his tone relatively noncommittal.  “I should think your sleep would be the more pressing matter given your upcoming trip to Val Royeaux, Herald.”

 

“Evelyn,” she responded, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

 

“I...I’m not entirely if that’s entirely...I mean...” he began.

 

Before he could gather his thoughts and finish she added, “Tomorrow when we return to our duties you can go back to calling me ‘Herald.’  Right now...I suppose for a few moments I’d like to just be Evelyn to someone and not a symbol.”

 

Amber colored eyes met her blue and as he shifted on the bench she wondered if the simple use of her name would be what finally caused him to turn and run back to his tent.  Whenever she had poked a bit for personal information or tried to flirt he would go from the self assure commander to acting a bit like a terrified school boy.  It was more endearing than Evelyn cared to admit, but it also meant she was constantly wondering if she might someday push too far.  Awkwardness with one of the advisors was not something she could afford.

 

“I...I suppose that would be alright, Her...Evelyn,” he said and she couldn’t stop the small smile, especially when she noticed the slight blush that crept into his cheeks.

 

“Thank you, Commander,” she responded automatically.

 

“Cullen,” he countered, a slight smirk tugging at his lips and suddenly it was Evelyn who was blushing.

 

“Alright, Cullen...I suppose that’s only fair,” she countered, looking away for a moment to allow her cheeks to cease their burning.

 

“It’s easy to forget sometimes that all of this is still so new to you,” he told her after a moment.  “This way of life, I mean.  You have managed to adapt to your role rather well.”

 

Straightening her posture and fiddling with the fringe on the blanket she averted her gaze as she admitted, “I have a lifetime of experience adapting to what it is everyone else wants me to be.”

 

For her entire life she had found she had two strikes against her, neither of which were her fault.  The first was the fact that she had been born female.  The second was that because she was the youngest in a large noble family and as woman, her dowry was nearly non-existent.  For a few years she had played the game, attending parties and trying to attract a husband that would please both herself and her father.  In the end it had been pointless as men would flee upon discovering she could offer very little and so she was sent to the Chantry.  She did so with the understanding that the position of clerk was temporary until she was ready to serve in a more permanent way.

 

“The world is a mess and there are so many who are hurting because of it,” she added, tucking her hair behind her ear.  “No one knows if we’ll truly be able to close the Breach.  No one knows if this thing on my hand is truly contained, or if I’ll even survive trying to set things right again.  And even if it works, it won’t put an end to all the violence... So much is uncertain, but I know I can help those who are hurting and it helps me accept the rest.”

 

Images of the violence she had encountered on the road flickered in her mind and she clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling.  The last thing she needed was to been seen as weak by the Commander.

 

“I...In my experience it’s those moments of humanity that make the rest more bearable,” he told her.  "I’ve seen more in my life than most.  I...It’s easy to lose sight of the good.”

 

She nodded slightly and replied, “I suppose it will get easier with time.  I just feel like for every person we help there are so many more that oppose us, who turn to acts of aggression.”

 

He shifted again slightly on the bench and she felt his gaze fall upon her profile.  “It does,” he said finally, his voice surprisingly gentle.  “With time you grow used to the conflict.”

 

Time. That very concept was one she had been struggling with since she awoke in chains after the explosion at the Conclave.  No matter what time kept marching forward, drawing her closer to an end and having to try once more to close the Breach.  If she was to be granted time after her task was completed to build a future was a mystery to her and it caused her fingers to begin to tremble harder.  She tried to pull them into the blanket so as not to be seen by Cullen.  However, as his hand fell upon her shoulder she knew she had not been quick enough and her eyes snapped up to meet his.  His gaze held nothing but concern and Evelyn blushed and quickly looked away again.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, desperately trying to fight the urge to flee the Chantry and his presence, mortified at being so weak.  “As you said, this is all so new to me.  I’m not sure sometimes what the Maker was thinking in saving me...Surely there were more experienced choices at the Conclave.”

 

“Evelyn,” he said softly, causing her to return her eyes to him in surprise at house easily her name had slipped from his lips, “I...I meant it when I said you have adapted well.  Your life has been completely changed by what happened, and will likely never return to what it was before.  I do not for a moment believe that even someone hardened by years of military experience could shoulder this responsibility with the same amount of grace and conviction.  You are...When Cassandra first showed you the Breach and the rifts you didn’t hesitate.  You do what needs to be done.  No one will fault you for your feelings during the few quiet moments you have to be alone with your thoughts.  It takes nothing away from the strength you have shown, it means you are indeed still a person, not a symbol.”

 

A tear slipped from her eye and Evelyn turned her face away quickly hoping to hide it from him.  Strength was not an attribute she believed she possessed, and although she was aware of the good work she had done it still felt as if he were describing someone else.  She felt him shift next to her again, the hand he had placed on her shoulder shifting as well as he wrapped an arm around her and drew her to his side. She stiffened, still trying desperately to keep her emotions buried.  A Trevelyan did not fall to pieces.

 

He must have noticed the rigidness of her body and he began to pull away, the warmth he was offering starting to retreat, and in a rushed whisper she said, “Stay….please.”

 

He had frozen in place and taking a deep inhale, Evelyn moved to settled against him, accepting his silent offer of compassion and understanding.  Her head came to rest on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm more firmly around her, allowing her to feel sheltered and protected for the first time since before her initial journey to Haven.

 

“Thank you, Cullen,” she said softly, her body relaxing as her senses were overwhelmed by the nearness.  The scent of leather and sandalwood was comforting as it enveloped her, and she allowed her head to be heavy on his broad shoulder. She felt safe, as if for a moment she could truly be just Evelyn.

 

“I...you’re welcome,” he said after a moment.

 

She had noted the stumbling over words before and that he would often start to say one thing and then stop himself.  It was curious to her that a man who was so in control often came so close to saying things he obviously thought better of once he was on the verge of allowing the words to slip from his lips.  She had not noticed the same issue with Cassandra or Josephine.  Perhaps he did stumble a bit around Leliana, but Evelyn had quickly picked up on the joy the Spymaster seemed to take in teasing him and making him uncomfortable.

 

They sat in silence for some time, simply taking in each other’s warmth.  Neither spoke, and Evelyn feared if she did it would bring an end to what he had offered.  She had not realized how much she had missed feeling safe and secure.  It wasn’t a luxury she had been allowed in quite some time.

 

Eventually Evelyn allowed her eyes to drift shut, simply allowing herself the distraction of his embrace.  She wasn’t sure when she drifted off to sleep, but when she woke the next morning back in her cabin there was part of her that wondered if it had been a dream.  However, the scent of sandalwood still clung to the air and she realized it was coming from her blanket which had been pressed up against him when she had settled against Cullen’s side.  To say she didn’t find the Commander attractive would be a blatant lie, but the previous night had surprised her and pointed out a few things she had falsely assumed.  Underneath the stoic and sometimes prickly mannerism he displayed was a warmth that she had not expected.

  
Filing what she had learned away, Evelyn rose from the bed to greet the day and try to enjoy what little time in Haven she would have before leaving for Val Royeaux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another thank you for those who have read and supported this story. It means a great deal to me. Please feel free to review or contact me privately with any thoughts.


	5. Chapter 4

The training area of Haven was quiet as the recruits and soldiers had retired for the evening for a meal and well deserved relaxation.  The faint sounds of the Inquisition camp above drifted over the open training area as rounds were made and conversations commenced.  The sun was low in the sky, giving everything an orange glow.

 

Cullen sat in his tent looking over the latest batch of reports in the aftermath of the excursion to Val Royeaux, the onset of a headache lurking behind his tired eyes.  It wasn’t exactly fair to say that the trip to Val Royeaux had been a failure, yet the it had proven to be a disappointment in regards to the Chantry and the Templars.  The disturbing description of a Templar attacking the Revered Mother had been difficult for Cullen to stomach, to say he was not particularly impressed with the Lord Seeker’s behavior was a severe understatement.  The Chantry had been left defenseless and yet was no closer to offering their support to the Inquisition.

 

The Herald seemed even less sure which path take in regards to whether to approach the mages or Templars for help closing the Breach then she had been prior to the departing for Val Royeaux.  The Templars certainly would not hear her out at this time, but he did not believe they should write them off entirely as there were surely those among their ranks who would not agree with the Lord Seeker’s actions.  He had noted the catch in her voice as she spoke of the Templars’ behavior, yet she hadn’t immediately decided to run to the mages even with an open invitation from the Grand Enchanter.

 

The sound of an arrow hitting its target in the training yard drew Cullen from his thoughts.  At this hour of the day there generally wasn’t anyone training as exercises had ended.  Even the most committed recruits took their leave to seek nourishment and rest and they tended to retreat back to the main part of the village leaving the training area eerily silent.  Curiosity caused him to set aside the reports and make his way out of his tent into the cool night air.

 

In the far corner of the training yard his eyes quickly fell upon a familiar figure and person who was obviously behind the noise that had drawn him away from his work.  Dressed in simple leather breeches and a tunic, long hair braided and hanging over her shoulder, the Herald was certainly a sight as she stood against the backdrop of a mountain sunset.   Bow in hand and a quiver of bows next to her, she contemplated the form of a training dummy in the distance, completely unaware that he was watching her practice.  Taking a breath, she drew back and took aim.  A moment later the arrow flew across the training yard, finding it’s mark in the dummy.

 

For a moment his mind drifted back to just before her departure for Val Royeaux.  When she first approached him at the Chantry that evening he had every intention of retreating back to his tent as soon as his prayers were finished.  Yet, her eyes had betrayed the panic that had risen up within her when he offered her the chance at solitude and he had been unable to deny her company.  Evelyn Trevelyan was a remarkably strong woman.  After the encounter in the Chantry however, he couldn’t help wondering how much of that strength was simply the walls she built around herself as a form of protection.  She didn’t complain, she didn’t shy away from tasks in fear, but it also meant her true feelings were also a mystery hidden behind the mask of fearlessness.

 

Acting on impulse he had drawn her close to comfort her when he saw a tear slip down her cheek.  The fact that her body almost instantly went rigid had not been lost on him, but she had asked him to stay.  His instinct to comfort had ultimately been the correct one that evening, but she had been avoiding him since then outside the war room.  Coming back to the present he realized staring at her as she continued to let arrows fly across the practice field likely would not make her more comfortable engaging in conversation.

 

Moving across the training area, he tried to make a little extra noise to alert her to his approach.  Allowing one more arrow to fly and find its target, she lowered the bow as he drew near and turned to face him.  He offered a small smile, noting that she returned it almost shyly, tucking an escaped tendril of hair behind her ear as was the habit he had picked up on when she was unsure or nervous.

 

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Commander,” she said as he approached.  “I seem to have a habit of doing that.  I thought everyone had gone to dinner.”

 

“I had a few reports I had been ignoring all day needing my attention first, Herald,” he told her.  “You don’t need to keep apologizing to me...you are certainly not a disturbance.”

 

He noted a blush crept into her cheeks at his words and suddenly he felt once more like a daft, inexperienced young Chantry boy as his hand instinctive reached up to rub the back of his neck.  It seemed she possessed the power to turn him into a bumbling mess with just a smile or a simple blush.

 

“Anyway…” he said after a moment, “I...I should probably be the one apologizing to you for distracting you from your practice.”

 

With a smirk she raised her eyes to meet his and replied, “Or, perhaps we should simply stop apologizing to each other for trivial matters.”

 

He couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped him when he thought about the truth of her statement.  It seemed nearly every conversation outside of the war counsel began with one or both of them apologizing for something.  Somewhere along the way they had fallen into the pattern without fully realizing it.

 

“Fair enough,” he said in agreement.  “I...I wasn’t aware you had also been trained with a bow.”

 

He fought the urge to grimace at the lack of verbal finesse he possessed around the Herald.  It would be a complete lie to pretend he did not find her attractive, yet he had hoped with age he would have been able to move beyond the stuttering and stumbling for words.  Thankfully she did not seem to notice.

 

“In a fight I will always prefer my daggers,” she said, running her fingers idly over the bow.  “My father taught me how to hunt with a bow.  I think after five boys he was simply unsure how to relate to a girl and somehow he convinced my mother learning to shoot wouldn’t completely rob me of ladylike social graces.  Over the years I found the act of simply practicing relaxing, it forces me to calm my mind and focus it’s not exactly second nature to me.”

 

There was a wistfulness as she spoke that conflicted with some of her previous statements she had made in regards to her family.  One statement in particular had stuck in his mind since their previous conversation.   _I have a lifetime of experience adapting to what it is everyone else wants me to be._  There were so many untold stories behind that statement.  He knew families could be complicated and it seemed hers was no different.

 

“Given the current circumstances it was a blessing your brothers and father taught you how to defend yourself,” he told her, noting her eyes drifted towards the ground at the mention of her brothers.  Something flashed across her face, an emotion he could not identify fast enough.  It was gone in the blink of an eye, replaced by her usual pleasant smile.  When her eyes met his however they were still unreadable and the smile never reaching her blue orbs.

 

“Otherwise you would have certainly had your work cut out for you, Commander,” she retorted, her lips forming a smirk that he returned.  “I suppose it is indeed lucky for you I know how to handle myself around men with swords.”

 

“I...yes...I suppose it…” he felt the heat creep up his neck into his ears and he was glad the sun light had dimmed enough that she would be unable to see his blush.  He was relatively certain there was a double meaning to her words given her tone and the way she regarded him as she spoke.  Ever since she had asked if he had taken a vow of chastity he had been convinced she was trying to see if she could make him blush himself to death.  “It is.  I...I’m sure they’re proud of the work you’re doing.”

 

She shrugged slightly, looking away again for a moment and then replied, “I don’t know if proud is the right word.  My family is very well connected in the Chantry...and I’m still a supposed heretic.”

 

“Is it safe to assume you have not had much contact then since the Conclave?” he asked.

 

“A few letters from my oldest brother,” she said with a shrug, “and one from my father arrived today.”

 

He watched as she looked as if she was about to say more and then stopped herself.  She tucked the same offending strand of hair behind her ear again, and he couldn’t help noticing how much younger she looked as she gave into the nervous habit.  To see someone who was generally so self assured seem so small and timid, even if it was only for the briefest of moments, always seemed to catch him off guard.

 

“Herald, if there is something on your mind you can certainly tell me,” he told her finally, trying to reassure her.  “You are important and… to the Inquisition, I mean, and I’m happy to assist you in any way I can.”  He was almost certain that for the moment she had smirked at his stumbling, but it faded so quickly he thought he might have imagined it.

 

“He wrote me to inform me that the youngest of my brothers has gone missing,” she said after taking a deep breath, almost as if she wanted to steady herself before speaking.  “He’s a Templar...he was traveling to Orlais with a small group and the all communication has simply ceased.”

 

“Have you spoken to Leliana?” he asked, digesting the source of her worry.  “Perhaps her people might be able to locate him?”

 

“No, I have not,” she said with a slight sigh, regarding him for a moment.  Then she added, “I...With everything that we’ve learned in regards to the Templars I don’t want this to appear as if this is affecting my decision as to whom we ultimately decide to approach for help.  I would like nothing more than to ride out immediately and demand answers from the Lord Seeker, but I’m not yet sure it is the best course for the Inquisition.  So, I’ve been keeping this quiet for now...you are the only person I’ve told.”

 

“Then it will remain between us until you tell me otherwise,” he told her.  “I have a few contacts in the Order I could reach out to, perhaps they might have some information that might prove useful.”

 

“I...Thank you, Cullen,” she said softly.  “My childhood was far from ideal, but my brothers have always been there for me.  Anything you can find out would be helpful.”

 

Cullen gave her a small smile, noting that she had dropped the pretense of titles for the moment.  It seemed to happen whenever she was being completely open and honest.  He mused that perhaps it correlated with when was truly being ‘Evelyn’ and not ‘the Herald.’

 

“Of course,” he replied.  “I’m sure one of my…”

 

His words died on his lips as suddenly she threw her arms around his neck in a hug.  Being caught off guard he took a small stumbling step back, but his arms instinctively wrapped around her as he kept them both upright.  Evelyn was an interesting contradiction.  One moment she was the reserved and proper noblewoman, the next impulsive and free spirited.  It was a brief embrace and when she pulled away she wore a blush that very likely matched his own.

 

“I should probably be going,” she said a moment later.  “Varric and Sera have something cooked up at the tavern and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”  Fingers once again finding the hair near her ear she added, “Perhaps you might consider joining us?”

 

“I…” he paused for a moment wondering what the proper response to her invitation was and then replied, “If I can manage to sort out a few pressing reports and correspondences I’ll be by a bit later.”

 

He thought he noted a flash of disappointment cross her delicate features, but he couldn’t be sure as it had grown dark.  She gave a slight nod and then started to make her way up the path and back to the main part of the village, leaving him to watch after her for a moment before making his way back to his tent.

 

As he approached his tent he nearly groaned outwardly when he saw an all too familiar figure watching him.  He wasn’t sure when Cassandra had returned from dinner and her rounds, but she stood near the tents with her arms folded over her chest.  As he drew close he noticed that her quizzical expression changed.  A grin spread across her face, much like the proverbial cat who swallowed the canary.  She had obviously seen the Herald hug him and the exchange that followed.

 

“Whatever you think that was, you would be mistaken,” he said, refusing to give the Seeker even an inch.  He had discovered relatively quickly that under her tough exterior was a romantic soul and he would not have her using something innocent as a reason to meddle.

 

“You have no idea what I am thinking,” she countered, her smile turning into a smirk.  “It’s good she talks to someone.  She’s asked for my advice a few times, but she is hesitant to talk speak of herself.”

 

“I...yes...well, she has been through a lot,” he agreed, feeling a bit like he was a little boy again being questioned by the Revered Mother at the local Chantry for pulling a girl’s ponytail.  “If there’s nothing else, I should return to my work.”

 

Her expression grew serious once more and she said, “Just be careful, Cullen.  We do not yet know what will happen when she tries to close the Breach.  While she needs friends, I would be wary of any deeper attachments to the Herald at this time.”

 

“There’s no reason for concern,” he said, knowing his response was almost too quick, “but I will take that under advisement.”

 

Shaking his head, he pushed back the flap of his tent and ducked inside.  Collapsing into the chair by his small desk he ran a hand over his face trying to shake the image of Cassandra’s smirk.  The Seeker had been right of course, the future when it came to the Herald was extremely uncertain and he was not currently in a position to offer an sort of stable presence in her life.  He had grown good at keeping his withdrawal symptoms hidden, but he still had days where he wondered if he could continue to endure the challenge of breaking his lyrium chain.  Given that how could he possibly be there for the woman who might very well save them all.

  
Pinching the bridge of his nose he knew he had gotten himself into a potentially awkward situation by leaving an opening to drop by the tavern that evening.  Yet, weighing Cassandra’s words and the way the Herald had hugged him when he agreed to assist her in locating her brother he knew it was best to stay away.  So, taking a blank parchment from his desk he set to work on correspondences to send to a few choice contacts within the Order, trying not to imagine the Herald watching the tavern door wondering when he would appear.


	6. Chapter 5

Evelyn was drunk.

She wasn’t entirely sure how that had happened, she was usually so careful when it came to alcohol. Yet she had been so busy trying to not look like she was watching the door that she had failed to notice how many times Sera and Varric had ordered her a refill. When the conversation had turned to her advisors, and more specifically the handsome Commander whom she had been waiting for, she had managed to excuse herself get out the tavern door without appearing too inebriated. At least she hoped she had managed to accomplish this feat while not exposing her budding feelings for Cullen to her companions.

The mountain air outside didn’t seem quite as frigid with the alcohol coursing through her veins, it did, however, seem to help cool the heat the had risen to her cheeks. It was a curious thing, and she couldn’t be certain when it was her cheeks had started turning a shade of pink at the mere mention of the man in charge of the Inquisition’s forces. Probably shortly after her first attempts at flirtation when she allowed herself to notice how attractive he was, or how her heart fluttered when he rewarded her with a rare smile.

When she had acted on impulse earlier that evening and threw her arms around him in a hug she had been terrified she made a mistake. Since waking up her new responsibilities as the “Herald of Andraste” Evelyn had been relatively careful to think through every word and action. She had a part to play and acting on every feeling would spell disaster for everyone. Yet there were times around Cullen she would forget herself as she had earlier that evening. She wasn’t exactly sure how long she had sat there glancing at the door every few moments, but she certainly felt like the biggest fool in Thedas.

At some point in the evening it have become evident to Evelyn that men, or perhaps people in general, were all the same. They were willing to do or say anything to ensure they got what they wanted and it seemed that she still, after all this time, had no idea how to clearly read a man’s intentions. She had clearly mistaken Cullen’s awkwardness for buried attraction, but she could see now that her attempts at flirtation had simply put him in a tricky situation. She was currently the face of the Inquisition and he was the leader of its army and he had to work with her, which meant being polite. It wouldn’t be good for the Inquisition if he told her to sod off when she made advances. They needed the mark on her hand and that meant keeping her around until her job was complete and keeping her relatively happy.

Making her way slowly through the sleeping town so as to appear as if she was in complete control of her faculties, Evelyn mentally cursed herself for being so daft. She should have seen this coming, she should have known. Her dealings with the opposite sex rarely ended well, and it seemed Cullen would be just another regret on her long list.

A figure appeared on the path ahead of her coming from the Chantry and Evelyn swore under her breath. Would her idiocy know no end? In her hurry to escape the conversation in the tavern she had completely forgotten the Commander’s habit of going to the Chantry late in the evening to pray.

Quickly she spun around to find a place to hide until he had passed, forgetting the her current state for a moment. Her boot slipped on a patch of ice she had managed to avoid earlier and she felt herself go airborne for moment as her body raced towards the ground. She hit with a jarring thud, her head coming into contact with the gravel of the path beneath her as she saw both literal and figurative stars. She laid there for a moment, her hand coming up to cover her eyes and hide everything from her view. Tears prickled her eyes, but she managed to fight them back and she prayed to the Maker that he would see fit to have the ground open up beneath her and swallow her whole. Her prayer went unanswered.

“Evelyn….Maker’s breath, are you alright? Can you hear me?”

The sound of Cullen’s voice elicited a groan from her crumpled form and her cheeks burned once more with a ferocious blush. Slowly she dropped her hand from her eyes, trying to focus on his face as it hovered above her own. She could have sworn she saw concern clearly written on his face, but she quickly reminded herself that they all needed her alive until the Breach was closed and the sky healed.

“Evelyn?” he said again forcing her to focus a little harder, and she almost convinced herself she heard something that sounded like desperation in his voice. “Say something, please.”

“I am never drinking with Sera and Varric again,” she answered with a smirk, earning a small smile of relief from Cullen. With a groan she added, “I am going to have a massive headache in the morning.”

“Yes, it seems that is now unavoidable,” he replied, his eyes scanning her face as if looking for sign of serious injury. “We should probably have Adan or Solas take a look at you to be sure you’re alright.”

“Yes...can’t have the Herald of Andraste removing herself from the world just yet,” she said, allowing him to assist her as she sat up slowly. She could have sworn he tensed a bit at her words, but she figured it was the alcohol making her believe he actually cared if she lived beyond closing the Breach. “I survived an explosion and the Fade, but a little alcohol and ice are my undoing.”

The world began to spin a bit and she leaned her forehead against his shoulder willing it to stop. She was vaguely aware that one of his arms wrapped around her to support her while his other hand gently explored the back of her head as she leaned against him. Closing her eyes for a moment she relaxed a bit while she regained her bearings.

“You smell nice,” she added softly. “You always do…”

“Can you stand?” he asked, bringing her back to the present again.

She pulled her head back slowly to see the look of concern once more on his face and her fingers came up to trace his jaw. She could feel the stubble under her fingers, and a smile played at the corners of her lips. His eyes closed for the briefest moment and she heard his breath catch in his throat. Yet, he gently took her hand in his own, pulling her fingers away from his face.

“I think so,” she said, softly, frowning with disappointment. She was acting on impulse again, and it was met with another rejection.

Slowly he began to stand, and she allowed him to help her to her feet. It only took a moment for her to realize that standing had been a serious mistake as the world began to spin once more. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, gripping at his shirt to try to keep herself upright. The last thing she heard as her world went black was Cullen calling her name.

**************************

Evelyn slowly opened her eyes, groaning at the brightness of the room and covering her face with her hands. She was vaguely aware of the fact that she was in her bed although she had no recollection of how it was she had gotten there. Her head felt as if it had been bashed in by an ogre and the world spun for a brief moment as she tried to remember what exactly had happened the previous evening after she left the tavern. The soft sound of someone snoring drew her attention and she slowly parted her fingers to sneak a look at the culprit.

She nearly groaned again as she saw Cullen asleep in a chair next to her bed. His hair was tousled, clothing wrinkled, and she was quite certain the muscles in his neck would be protesting the rest of the day when she noted the position of his head. He had dark circles under eyes, suggesting he had not been asleep for very long. She forgot all that though when suddenly images of her late night journey through the village flooded her memory and she felt a her cheeks burn bright with a blush.

“Maker’s balls,” she groaned, covering her face again. His snoring stopped and she froze for a moment. When she had left the tavern she had hoped she could spend the next few days avoiding him while she prepared to leave for the Storm Coast. It seemed, however, that fate had other plans.

“Evelyn?” she heard him call softly. “Are you awake?”

“Much against my better judgement,” she answered through her fingers.

“Adan left something for the headache for you take when you woke,” he told her. “He said to have you take it and that you were to spend the day resting.”

Lowering her hand she slowly pushed herself up so she was sitting on the bed, and he rearranged the pillows behind her so she could lean back comfortably. Memories of staring at the tavern door flooded her mind and she had to fight back a wave of anger that she now was forced to accept his help. She had gotten drunk to take her mind off the waiting. If he had simply told her he wasn’t interested in joining her for a drink she wouldn’t be in this position. Honesty could have spared them both this embarrassment.

He handed her a flask of some mixture Adan had undoubtedly concocted, and she could feel him studying her as she drank. Her anger was boiling beneath the surface, most of it, however, at directed at herself. How many men did she have to get attached to before she realized it was safer to keep her carefully built walls firmly in place?

Finally he said, “I...you gave me quite a scare last night. When you fainted….I…I was….Well, we can’t afford to lose you.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit at his words, her fears reinforced. The Inquisition couldn’t stand to lose the only person who could possibly bring an end to all this nonsense with the Breach and the rifts. She was a tool, a pawn to be moved around like the war table pieces. She was simply the Herald, nothing more.

“I appreciate your assistance last night, Commander,” she said, studying the flask in her hands, not daring to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to spend the night babysitting me. I’m afraid I was a bit distracted and lost track of how much I had to drink. It won’t happen again.”

“I...I merely...What I meant to say was...I was worried about you,” he stammered, and she finally looked over at him as he scrambled for words. “I...Did I do something wrong?”

She nearly laughed at his question. Technically he had not done anything wrong. He hadn’t promised he would meet her at the tavern, merely offered to try to do so. They were not in a relationship and they still hardly knew each other, more acquaintances than friends. Yet, when he returned her hug the evening before she had thought she could see a warmth in his eyes when he looked at her that suggested he might actually return her feelings.

“Of course not, Commander,” she said, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I’ve taken up enough of your time this morning. I’m sure you have work to do...Those reports and correspondences do seem to pile up on your desk.” Her tone was sharp, emphasising the last bit despite trying to keep the anger from creeping into her voice.

“Evelyn, I…” he began, and Evelyn felt her temper flare at his inability to see that she simply wanted him to leave.

“Thank you for looking after me,” she interrupted, “but I should be fine now and you have your duties to attend to, _Commander_.”

“Of course, Herald,” he said, his voice taking on a cool edge as he rose from the chair. “I will let Adan know you are awake as I am sure he will want to examine you again.”

She raised her eyes finally to meet his, but he had already turned and started towards the door. His tone was one she had heard before when he addressed his recruits, but it had never been directed at her and it stung. He didn’t look back as he exited the cabin, and she flinched as the door swung close with a bang. She sighed, dropping her head into her hands feeling tears well up at the corners of her eyes.

The previous day had been terrible. Reading her father’s letter she had spent the rest of the day filled with worry and dread for her brother. Varric and Sera had known something was wrong even if she wouldn’t share the details, which was likely the reason behind the rendezvous at the tavern. However, she had felt a little of the weight life from her shoulders life when Cullen had offered to use his contacts within the Templar Order to see if he could find any information. The way his arms had wrapped around her waist when she hugged him, the way his eyes grew warm when he looked at her...it had helped her feel as if she did not have to suffer this particular burden alone. In the blink of an eye that had been ripped away from her.

Tears slipped down her cheeks and Evelyn leaned back on the pillows once more, hands dropping to her side. She reminded herself that it was better to know now before any attachments grew too deep. However, knowing it was for the best did little to quite the bitter disappointment she felt.

Instead she consoled herself with the knowledge that she would be leaving Haven again in a few short days and could put some physical distance between herself and the Commander. Perhaps it would give her now tender heart a chance to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just a reminder that I own nothing from the Dragon Age series.
> 
> Also, thank you for the kudos!


	7. Chapter 6

The next several weeks passed with little incident.  This was helped by the fact that during the brief periods in Haven, Evelyn would avoid Cullen outside the war room with great success.  He was fairly predictable in that he rarely left the training area, so it wasn’t terribly hard for Evelyn to ensure she was far away from where he was likely to be found in the small village.  The remainder of the time she was on the road, thrilled to be away from Haven and able to focus on helping those suffering throughout Thedas.  It gave her life purpose and slowly she truly accepted her role as the Herald of Andraste.  If she was helping refugees and those suffering she could almost forget her own troubles, as they seemed so small by comparison.

 

While her strategy for surviving her time in Haven had been good, it was not perfect.  It had not prevented a rather explosive confrontation with Cullen during one of their war council meeting between returning from the Storm Coast and leaving for the Fallow Mire.  The encounter was burned into her memory and as the village of Haven appeared in the distance it had her dreading what was to come.

 

The Commander was a mystery at times.  Some moments he was warm, the way he looked at her making Evelyn believe that he actually cared about her as a person.  Then there were those moments that her ‘friend’ was replaced by a man she hardly knew.  There was a power to him she had not anticipated and he had the ability to make her feel like a small child with just a few words.

 

**************

_Upon arriving back at the village her feet had barely hit the ground as she dismounted from her horse when a messenger summoned her along with Cassandra to the war room.  Evelyn had hoped to wash the stench of salt air and travel off her skin, but, as she made her way through Haven, it seemed that would not be the case.  The two women walked in silence to the Chantry and as the door to the war room clicked closed the tension among the advisors did not go unnoticed._

_Josephine had tried to approach the subject of Evelyn’s encounter with a giant with her usual diplomacy and tact.  Exhausted from travel Evelyn only half listened to the Ambassador.  However, the fact that they all felt she shouldn’t be taking unnecessary risks with her life given there was still a rather large tear in the sky that only the Herald could hope to fix did not escape her attention.  Part of Evelyn knew they were right, but it still managed to hit a very insecure nerve and it only served to reinforce the belief that she was simply a tool to be used._

_She had managed to beat down her anger and hurt until the lone male voice in the room spoke, addressing Cassandra._

_“What in the Maker’s name possessed you to allow your team to go after a giant?” he snapped after listening to Josephine talk her usual circles around the subject._

_“It wasn’t Cassandra’s decision,” Evelyn replied before the other woman could defend herself, folding her arms over her chest and fixing her eyes on Cullen’s.  “It was mine.  It was too close to an Inquisition camp to be ignored.”_

_He had been leaning against the back wall, hand on the pommel of his sword.  When she spoke he raised an eyebrow, and before he replied, he pushed off the wall, straightening his spine and regarding her for a moment.  Perhaps on one of his recruits or underlings it might have worked as an intimidation technique, but Evelyn merely stood her ground._

_“We could have sent some of our soldiers to handle it,” he countered.  “There is a reason our forces train….every day.  However, there was absolutely no reason for you to put yourself or your companions in danger!”_

_“I am far from helpless, Commander,” she said, taking a step forward towards the war table and Cullen who was still on the other side directly opposite her.  “The same goes for my companions.  By the time your soldiers would have arrived our camp would have been destroyed and lives could have been lost.  Delay was not a viable option and everyone is fine.”_

_He matched her with a step forward of his own drawing as close as he could with a table between them, suddenly mirroring her crossed arms and replied, “I have read every report that has come from your excursions, Herald.  I am aware that your are capable of protecting yourself.  However, you should not be seeking out danger.  Also, I would hardly call you having a dislocated shoulder, sprained ankle, and three cracked ribs fine.”_

_Evelyn couldn’t stop herself from shooting a look at Cassandra who had been silent up until that point.  The other woman shrugged and said, “I will not lie in my reports.”_

_With a sigh Evelyn nodded and turned back to Cullen and her voice rose slightly as she told him, “I will not stand here and be scolded like a child, Commander.  I more than understand that this,” she held out her left hand to show the mark, “may be the only thing that saves us all.  I do not need to be coddled and I will not put myself in a situation I can not handle.  Perhaps, you might actually try trusting me.  I have yet to fail any of you and I do not intend to start doing so now.”_

_In her peripheral vision she noticed Josephine and Leliana exchange glances.  Cullen leaned forward, resting his hands on the war table.  His amber eyes never left hers, however.  The warmness she had grown to expect to find there was gone, replaced by a sharp stare that rooted her in place.  In that moment she could understand what it was Cassandra had seen in him in Kirkwall, there was a power beneath the surface.  However, she refused to bend now and allow him any sort of victory._

_“You have taken on a responsibility that is greater than saving an Inquisition camp,” he practically shouted, but she refused to flinch away.  “You need to evaluate situations before rushing in.  We can not afford for you to be headstrong and impulsive!”_

_“No,” she said back, keeping her voice cool and low as she mimicked his posture on the opposite side of the table, “you can’t afford to have your greatest weapon smashed under a boulder until the Breach is closed.  However, Commander, I am not one of your recruits that you can order around and expect me to blindly follow your every whim.  Let me remind you that I do not infact answer to you.  When I am faced with a situation in the field I will evaluate it and decide the right course of action.”_

_“And you evaluate these situations with what experience exactly?” he asked, his eyes narrowing a bit._

_“Perhaps we should reconvene at a later time,” Josephine jumped in before Evelyn could fully process what he was implying by asking the question._

_Evelyn pushed back from the tablet, turning quickly before he could see the hurt and embarrassment she was sure was written plainly on her features.  She had been sheltered by her upbringing, and she was the first to admit her experiences were somewhat limited.  There was a part of her that wondered what upset her more, the fact that they didn’t trust her with her own life, or that Cullen clearly thought she was simply some daft noble incapable of making a wise decision._

 

**********************

 

The sound of the bell announcing their arrival forced Evelyn back to the present with a jolt.  She had fled the war room after that encounter, spending the rest of that particular day locked in her cabin.  The following meetings had been dominated by Leliana and Josephine with Cullen contributing only when necessary.  They had avoided looking at each other for the most part, their interactions strictly professional.

 

Up ahead she could see the main gate and a small crowd had gathered.  There were smiles, some waving.  The crowd had grown since that first departure for the Hintherlands as people joined the Inquisition.  However, her eyes were drawn to a familiar figure with a sigh.  The fur of the Commander’s pauldrons stood out among the crowd and Evelyn pushed back a groan.

 

“Maker’s balls, what does he want now?” she asked, noting the stern expression he wore as they approached.

 

“Curly’s not happy if he’s not scowling at someone,” Varric said next to her.  “Try not to take it personally.  Today is just your lucky day.”

 

With another sigh she glanced at the dwarf as a stable attendant took the reins of her horse so she could dismount.  With a smirk she said, “I could use a little less of that particular brand of luck in my life.”

 

“Try not to stab him, firecracker,” he told her, returning the smirk.

 

She heard Varric chuckle as she headed towards the gate.  Cullen stepped forward as she approached and the rest of the crowd dispersed to return to their responsibilities.  Evelyn felt a pit form in the base of her stomach.  Whatever he wanted she was quite certain it would not be pleasant, otherwise he would have simply waited for the war council meeting.

 

“Herald, might I have a word before you retire to your cabin?” he asked, as she drew near, blocking her path into the town.

 

She nodded, following him past the training grounds and towards the lake.  They walked in silence for a moment and she took the time to mentally prepare for another lecture.  She knew the information the latest batch of reports contained and he could not possibly be happy with her after her return trip to the Hintherlands.  It was likely not helped by the fact that they were delayed a week in their return as she insisted on meeting with the mages at Redcliffe before they continued on to their base.

 

“I have news of your brother,” he said when they were out of earshot of the recruits and officers training near the gates.

 

“I…” Evelyn stopped, turning to stare out him a bit dumbfounded.  “Forgive me...with everything that has happened I wasn’t sure if your offer was still...I mean…”

 

He had come to a halt, turning towards her as she spoke.  The Commander was a walking contradiction and she was so confused by the dance in which they seemed to engage.  She was certain there was a flash of disappointment in his amber eyes, but it was gone too quickly for her to be sure.  Before he could speak she took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever news he had received.

 

“If nothing else I’d like to think I’m a man of my word,” he told her with a slight shrug.  “Your brother and the men he was traveling with are at Therinfal Redoubt.  They are with the Lord Seeker.”

 

Evelyn looked away from him over to the lake trying to gather her composure.  She had been praying this would not be the case, but it seemed a foolish in hindsight.  He was a Templar and that meant he would be loyal to the Order.   A tired sigh escaped her as she felt her shoulders slump a bit knowing she was now faced with one of the most difficult decisions she would like have to make in her lifetime.

 

“Herald?” she heard him, but continued to study the lake.  “Evelyn?” he called and at the sound of her name her eyes snapped back to his in surprise.  “I know there are men there who do not agree with the Lord Seeker.  Perhaps if you approach the Templars some of them, including your brother, might be swayed to help us.”

 

“I…I can’t,” she began, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and looking down for a moment, gathering her composure before meeting his eyes again.  “I did not include everything from Redcliffe in my report.  I wanted to speak with you as well as Leliana and Josephine in person.  Cassandra agreed to as well.”

 

“What exactly did you leave out of the report?” he asked, his eyes searching hers for a moment as she pondered how much to tell him.

 

“In the village we found skulls in one of the locked up houses,” she said softly, trying to suppress a shudder at the memory of the room.  “There...there was a note.  The skulls belonged...the Venatori are using the tranquil to find shards.”

 

“Maker’s breath,” he said softly, looking away for a moment, running a hand over his face.

 

“I can not in good conscious pretend this isn’t happening,” she said.  “There must have been over a dozen skulls in that house...over a dozen defenseless lives lost and that does not take into account the oculara we found while traveling.  The Templars are not defenseless...as much as I want to ensure that my brother is safe, I can’t forget all those skulls and the lives they represent.  They haunt my dreams.”

 

“I...I understand,” he said softly, looking at her closely for a moment almost as if he was waiting for her to break.  “We can discuss this further at the meeting.”

 

She had been expecting more of an argument from the former Templar.  It was surprising that he had backed down so quickly, but perhaps it was just a quiet acceptance that there were those who needed her assistance more than the Order.  A part of Evelyn felt as if she were the lowest of the low for leaving her brother, but she knew he would want her to help prevent more innocent lives from being lost.

 

“Thank you,” she said softly.  “I...I should also apologize.  I assumed when you asked to speak to me that you wished to scold me for engaging the dragon we encountered.”

 

He gave a short laugh that was more of a snort, looking away as he rubbed the back of his neck.  She raised an eyebrow, meeting his eyes when they wandered back to her and holding his gaze.  He only rubbed his neck when he was feeling embarrassed or unsure and she stared at him awaiting an explanation.

 

“I...well...I had intended to bring it up,” he admitted.  “I think we could probably leave that for another time, however.”

 

“Thank you, Cullen,” she said softly, on impulse reaching out to place a hand on his arm and he looked at her slightly confused.  “Not for postponing the lecture...for finding out what you could about my brother.”

 

“I wish I could have found out more,” he replied.  “I...should let you get settled before the meeting.”

 

She nodded, although she was certain he was going to say something else.  They walked back towards the gate in a silence that was almost comfortable.  It reminded her of how they interacted before the night he found her sprawled out on the ice and Evelyn hoped whatever turmoil that had been brewing between them had passed.  It seemed that the man with whom she thought she was building a friendship with was back, replacing the strict Commander who had kept her at an arm's length.  She had pushed him away as well, and she was certain her reactions had made a bad situation worse.

 

“I will see you in a little while, Commander,” she said, offering him a warm smile.  “Thank you again.”

 

Turning, she moved towards the gate and into the village.  The thought of warm water, soap, and clean clothing calling to her as she spotted her cabin.  She was certain she could see Varric grinning as she moved down the path.  He was cleaning Bianca and he called out to her as she drew near.

 

“Curly still alive, firecracker?” he asked as she passed.

 

“Of course,” she said, grinning at him over her shoulder.  “All dragon related conversations have been postponed until a later date.”

 

“Smart man,” the dwarf said under his breath, and Evelyn couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her lips as she continued towards her cabin.

  
Evelyn was relatively sure Cullen’s objections stemmed from his lack of first hand experience with her fighting style and her mind had already started formulating how best to assuage his fears.  With any luck the Commander wouldn’t know what hit him and it would also mean an end to his lectures about safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for those who have shown support. It means a ton!
> 
>  
> 
> To move the story along a bit I decided to do a little bit of flashback to cover something that has been bouncing around in my head.
> 
>  
> 
> I still own nothing from the DA universe. Enjoy!


	8. Chapter 7

Another wave of pain tore through Cullens body as he leaned against the small desk desperately trying to stay upright.  Cassandra had been running interference for him since he awoke with a blinding headache that had only been the start of his troubles that day.  The nightmares that often gripped him as he slept had been growing in intensity over the previous few weeks since things had grown tense with the Herald.  Exhaustion combined with his head feeling as if it would implode, chills, nausea, and the other symptoms of his battle with lyrium withdrawal had him gratefully accepting the Seeker’s assistance for once.

 

His eyes caught his reflection in his shield and he sighed.  There was no way he would have been able to convince anyone he was fine that day.  The bad days had not been so frequent to cause him real concern, but he hated feeling useless, even for a short period of time.  The circles under his eyes were accentuated by his pale skin.  Looking closer he also noted the relatively fresh bruise on his jaw, the purple standing out even with the slight stubble.  Running a hand over his jaw he winced slightly, although the memory brought a slight smirk to his face even in his current state.

 

***************

 

_The straw dummy silently took the abuse Cullen was currently inflicting upon it with a practice sword.  The troops had been dismissed for lunch leaving the Commander alone with his thoughts and worries.  Leliana was currently preparing a plan to take Redcliffe Castle, one that included using Evelyn and her companions as a distraction.  Placing the Herald in harm's way unnecessarily had been driving him to the point of distraction._

_He more than understood the reasoning behind her choice.  From a practical stand point the mages might ultimately be the better choice for closing the rift.  He had also seen the haunted look in Evelyn’s eyes when she described the horror of that house in Redcliffe with the skulls of the tranquil.  Based on past experience he knew she would not be able to turn her back on Redcliffe Castle or the mages inside its walls._

_Filled with anxiety he had already snapped at two recruits that morning.  He knew his temper betrayed his emotions and if he had any hope of holding his troops together while they prepared he needed to get himself under control.  And so he took another hard swing at the dummy before him.  His armor had been placed in a neat pile to the side allowing him more freedom in his movements to simply channel his emotions into each hit._

_“I would think a moving target would prove to be more of a challenge, Commander” an all too familiar voice said from behind him._

_Turning his eyes met Evelyn’s and he noticed her smirk as stood leaning against the fence watching him.  In her hands were practice daggers, her hair carefully braided and pinned up in a bun to keep it out of her way.  Regarding her for a moment, he raised an eyebrow slightly wondering if she had come to the training yard for a specific purpose._

_“I’m afraid that’s not something that’s always easily found, Herald,” he said.  “Usually I am too busy watching my soldiers to spend time sparring.”_

_She pushed off the fence, approaching him, surveying the hay sticking out of the dummy from where he had repeatedly beat it with the practice sword.  Turning to face him once more she was now only a few short feet away.  They regarded each other for a moment a playful smile pulling at the corners of her lips._

  
_“Something occurred to me the other day, Commander,” she said, starting to slowly circle him again almost as if she was sizing him up.  “We never did arrange a time for you to see that my training was satisfactory.  I thought perhaps it might your mind at ease if you saw for yourself that I am capable of handling men with swords...and dragons with fiery breath.”_

_“It is my job to be concerned with your safety,” he started his all too familiar lecture, but she left up a hand to stop him._

_“Yes, I’m aware that you believe that is your job,” she told him.  “However, it makes you a bit...how should I put this...overbearing.”_

_“I am not overbearing!” he said, somewhat insulted by her tone._

_“So, you didn’t mean to imply I have no real world experience?” she asked tilting her head slightly in mock confusion._

_“I…” he stopped realizing she had a valid point._

_Smirking she asked, “So, shall we solve this little problem right now?”_

_“You wish to spar?” he asked somewhat surprised as he turned to face her._

_“Yes,” she replied.  “That is if you think you can keep up with a real opponent.  Your hesitancy makes me wonder about all that time you spend in the war room.”_

***************

 

He had agreed to the match rather quickly after her little jab, his ego unable to stand allowing anyone to think he was growing soft while he commanded men from behind a table.  In hindsight he realized she had played him, and he had allowed it.

 

Dropping down on to his cot he pulled a blanket around himself as the chills and shivers threatened to overtake him.  It was moments like these, when the withdrawal was at its worst, that he cursed the Chantry and the lyrium chains the put on their Templars.  He refused to give in, however.  He had come so far he would not lose this private war he was waging.

 

Closing his eyes against the pain his thoughts drifted back to the previous day in the training yard.  Evelyn had proven herself to be a formidable opponent.  Her smaller stature allowed her to move quickly, avoiding his blows easily.  At one point as she tried to escape him she had managed to hit his jaw with her elbow, giving him the bruise he had been examining earlier.

 

************

 

_“You nearly broke my jaw,” he said, rubbing the spot on his face where her elbow had just managed to connect.  “You fight dirty.”_

_“And if you were really trying to beat me I wouldn’t have landed the blow,” she countered, circling him again.  “You’re holding back, Commander.  You wouldn’t accept that from one of your recruits.”_

_He sighed, raising his shield again, preparing for her next attack.  She had a point.  He had been holding back, not wanting to hurt her.  Somehow he had developed a soft spot for the woman who was circling him like a wolf waiting to pounce, and that was a dangerous piece of knowledge for an opponent to have.  Any weakness could be exploited.  With a smirk he went on the offensive, catching her off guard with the sudden ferocity of the attack.  She smiled as he shoved her back with his shield, a small laugh escaping her lips as she circled him once more._

_“Ah, it seems I hit a nerve then,” she said, taunting him a bit._

***********

 

The memory helped take his mind off the pain for a few brief moments, allowing him to relax back on the pillows and try to focus on simply breathing.  They had continued on for sometime, exchanging blows, taunting each other occasionally.  He had been forced to admit she was infact well trained, despite her previous lack of battle experience.

 

As lunch drew to a close several of the recruits had gathered around to watch the end of their match.

 

************

 

_Cullen smirked to himself quite sure he had her.  She had lost one of her daggers and he stood between her and where the wooden practice weapon had fallen.  He advanced thinking he spotted a momentary lapse in her concentration as she weighed her options and he tried to knock her back once more with his shield to send her off balance.  What he had not counted on was for her to play dirty once more._

_A puff of smoke clouded his vision before he realized she had pulled out a flask that had been tucked into her belt.  He felt his legs swept out from under him, and he felt himself tumble to the ground.  Dropping the shield he grabbed her arm as she tried to strike at his neck with her remaining dagger and pulled her down to the ground, managing to pin her underneath him.  As the smoke cleared she was smirking up at him and his confused eyes met hers.  When he opened his mouth to speak he felt something sharp poking into his side ready to puncture any number of important organs._

_“You said it yourself,” she said with a smirk, “I fight dirty.”_

_“Where did you get that?” he asked slowly moving back off of her as she drew the small dagger away from him.  There were murmurs from those who had gathered, and he fought back a blush that threatened to creep into his cheeks when he realized the position they had previously been in._

_“That, Commander, is just one of my many secrets,” she said, sitting up._

**************

 

“Cullen?” Evelyn’s voice called softly, barely above a whisper, causing his eyes to snap open as he realized it was not part of his memory.  “Are you...oh...I hope I didn’t wake you.”

 

He stared at her for a moment, cursing whoever or whatever had put it into her head that she should check on him.  The last thing he wanted was for her to have to witness one of these episodes, which was precisely why he had chose to skip the morning’s council meeting.  She had enough to trouble her mind without worrying about his physical state of wellbeing.

 

“I…” she began, holding a tray in her hands and suddenly looking a bit sheepish, “Cassandra told me you were not feeling like yourself today.  She mentioned a headache...so I...I took the liberty of fetching something from Adan and I brought some toast and a few other things from the kitchen.”

 

“It’s nothing I can’t endure,” he said weakly, trying to push down the embarrassment of her seeing him in his current state.  “Thank you though, for your concern.”  
  


She set the tray on his desk taking a small flask and a container that looked like some kind of healing balm in her hands.  He watched her lower herself into the chair that he had placed near the cot so it was out of the way.  As she sat, she tucked a stray hair that had escaped her braid behind her ear.  He opened his mouth to speak as another wave of pain ripped through his body.  A hiss escaped his lips as he felt his muscles tense.

 

A small hand took hold of his larger one and drew his attention back to the woman sitting next to him.  She had set aside whatever it was Adan had given her, the fingers from her free hand finding their way to his hair.  Her brow creased with concern as her fingers gently worked through his hair, trailing along his scalp.  The touch was comforting and he closed his eyes quietly focusing on Evelyn’s presence as he waiting for the pain to pass.

 

When he felt the waves of pain start to lessen, he opened his eyes to meet hers once more.  She was watching him quietly, her fingers continuing their gentle explorations, her other hand still holding his.  He knew he owed her some sort of explanation, but before he could say a word she spoke.

 

“I know there is more to this than a headache,” she said softly, “but you don’t have to say anything about whatever it is that’s going on until you’re ready.”

 

“Thank you,” he said softly and she started to pull her hand away as she stood.  “I...I will tell you everything in time.  You have my word.”

 

She nodded, retrieving the healing balm.  She scooped a small amount out with her fingers, and then set the container aside.  He watched her expression as she reached out and trailed her fingertips along his jaw and the bruise she had given him the previous day.  Her upper teeth pulled gently at her lower lip, something she only seemed to do when worry was threatening to overtake her, and he desperately wish he could somehow ease her troubles.

 

“I’ll be fine,” he said softly, her eyes snapping back to his and he suddenly realized that she had leaned closer to give herself better access to his bruised jaw, bringing her face just inches from his own.  “Please….please don’t worry about me.”

 

She blushed, sitting back and wiped her hands on the small rag she must have grabbed from his wash basin.  He found he missed the contact, but he said nothing as she held out the flask containing Adan’s remedy for a headache.  He took it without complaint, knowing she likely wouldn’t take no for an answer.  He had learned very quickly exactly why Varric had chosen the nickname ‘firecracker’ for Evelyn.

 

“You’d probably have better luck asking me not to breathe then you do asking me not to worry,” she said, taking the empty flask once he had finished it and rising to set it on the tray she had placed on his desk.  Turning back to him and once again fiddling with hair by her ear she said, “I should let you rest.  I….would it be alright if I came by later?”

 

“Of course,” he said, giving her a small smile.

 

She returned the smile, taking a step forward.  He had thought for a moment she might return to his side to run her fingers through his hair one more time, but she stopped herself and started for the entrance to his tent.  A wave of disappointment passed over him, but Cullen ignored it.

 

“Evelyn,” he called, causing her to stop in her tracks and look at him.  “Thank you...I...I’ll see you this evening.”

 

Her smile brightened a bit as she left and he thought he saw a little of the worry vanish from her features.  Evelyn was a captivating woman, beautiful and strong willed.  He told himself they both simply needed friendship and that was all that was growing between them.  They both had jobs to do and neither could afford the distraction of anything more.

  
Relaxing back on the pillows he realized the chills had passed and he could feel some of the tension leaving his body.  He wondered what exactly Adan had put in that mixture since the healer was aware of Cullen’s battle with lyrium withdrawal.  His eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep seeing Evelyn’s concerned blue eyes clearly in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Again, thank you for the comments and likes!!!!!


	9. Chapter 8

The sounds of a well deserved celebration rang through the village of Haven.

 

A few short hours ago Evelyn had succeeded in closing the Breach with the help of the mages.  Cullen had been with the troops outside the Temple in the event the Inquisition’s plan failed.  As he watched Evelyn march into the Temple ahead of the mages, a lump had formed in his throat.  He had not often allowed himself to honestly reflect on his feelings towards her.  The future had always been so uncertain, and now he knew if she did not survive this there were many things that would be left forever unsaid.  Regrets were something he was used to living with and as she disappeared inside the remains of the Temple he did his best to focus on his troops.

 

The relief he had felt when she emerged was immense, but he had forced himself to stay in the background as she accepted the praise of those around them.  She deserved her moment, and perhaps later he could steal a bit of her time.  Once back at the village she had been swept off by her companions and as night fell, Cullen had yet to speak with Evelyn.  As he made his rounds in the village, occasionally stopping to talk to those who were celebrating, he couldn’t help looking for her familiar blue eyes.  Yet she seemed to have disappeared.

 

As he approached the Chantry he saw Leliana pulling the door shut behind her.  When her eyes fell upon him he could have sworn he saw her smirk, now all too familiar with her knowing expressions.  That woman missed nothing it seemed.  As he drew closer he noted the mischievous gleam in her eyes and fought back a groan as he was certain she was up to something.

 

“Ah, Commander,” she said, her smirk turning into a grin that told him his assumption was correct, “are you not planning to join the celebration?”  
  


“Perhaps in a short while,” he told her, coming to a halt next to her.

 

“It is a moment to savor, no?” she asked.  

 

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said, shifting slightly under her gaze.  “I just need to finish my rounds.  Perhaps when I’m done.”

 

“You should join Josie and I when you can,” she told him, glancing back over her shoulder at the door for a moment.  “It’s a pity the Herald has chosen to seek solitude in the Chantry.  I believe a little merriment would do her good as well.”

 

Before Cullen could respond she winked at him and started down the path towards the party below.  He watched her for a moment slightly dumbfounded.  It seemed he truly had wasted his time trying to convince everyone, including himself, that he felt nothing for Evelyn aside from friendship.  Although hiding anything from the Spymaster was a fool’s errand.  Leliana’s hint could not have been any less subtle, and he glanced from the path through the village to to door.  Shaking his head, he turned and made his way inside the Chantry.  He could have sworn he heard Leliana’s all to familiar giggle ringing through the night air as he made his way into the building.

 

He found Evelyn sitting on the same bench she had occupied months ago during her late night visit to the Chantry where she had come upon him praying.  She was obviously lost in thoughts as she did not seem to hear his approach.  When he settled next to her on the bench she finally turned to look at him, a small smile forming on her lips.  It didn’t quite reach her eyes, however, which were weary and Cullen had to resist the urge to draw her close.

 

She was far from fragile, but she had allowed him to see the woman beneath the confident front she put on for the rest of the word.  He was aware that beneath it all she was a very real person with fears and weaknesses like any other.  The night she found him in the Chantry and had fallen asleep while resting against his shoulder had played into his protective nature.  It seemed his desire to keep Evelyn safe would always be overshadowed by the fact that he was never truly in a position to do so.  So many of their arguments, so much of the tension between them stemmed from that simple fact.

 

“You should be celebrating your victory with your companions,” he said, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disturb the stillness of the Chantry.

 

“The same could be said for you,” she countered.  “Today’s success belongs to all of us.”

 

“I suppose it does,” he replied, reaching out before he could think better of it and brushing a stray lock of hair away from her eyes.  “We certainly wouldn’t be here without you though.  Enjoy tonight.”

 

Noticing her blush he suddenly realized what he had done and his hand instantly went to the back of his neck as he shifted a bit on the bench so he was facing forward once more.  Without the uncertainty of the outcome of closing the Breach it seemed he no longer had a good excuse to lie to himself in regards to his feelings for the woman next to him.  The uncertainty of it all had provided him with the perfect excuse to get close to her while still keep her at an arm's length.  The time for excuses was quickly running out.

 

“I’ll make an appearance in a bit,” she said softly, a slight sigh escaping her lips.  “I just wanted to clear my head.  I...when I returned to my cabin today there was another letter waiting for me from my father.  Apparently the news has reached Ostwick that the Inquisition recruited the mages.”

 

“I assume there was a certain amount of parental guilt in the letter as a result of that choice,” he replied, noting the slight nod of her head.  “You saved us all...I...despite my earlier reservations in regards to the mages, it was obviously the right one.”

 

“I still abandon my family,” she told him, frowning as she looked down and studied her feet.  “I know why I made the choice I did, and I still believe it was the right choice.  But...I ache when I think about the fate I might have left my brother to.”

 

“If you allow yourself to dwell on doubts and regrets it will only lead you down a very dark path,” he replied.

 

“I know,” she told him, her voice just above a whisper, her head dropping to his shoulder.  “And, I know he would have wanted me to close the Breach...It’s just difficult to celebrate knowing he’s still out there somewhere.”

 

When her head came to rest on his shoulder Cullen felt his pulse quicken, the scent of vanilla and something he had yet to identify invaded his scenes.  In retrospect there were too few of these moments over the last few months, and there was part of him that desperately wished he had been able to be more open with the beautiful woman next to him from the beginning.  Yet there had always been something standing in the way, they were so often pulled in opposite directions by duty it had been difficult to feel any sort of security.  All too soon the moment had passed and she lifted her head again.

 

“I’ve probably cloistered myself away enough for one evening,” she said, glancing over at him.  “Would you care to join me?  You should be enjoying the evening too, Cullen.”

 

“I…” he stopped suddenly realizing he was about to make another excuse that would allow him to back out of spending more time with Evelyn.  How many years had he spent finding reasons to cut himself off from others?  Rubbing the back of his neck again out of habit he told her, “I have to finish my rounds, but it shouldn’t take long.  I can join you as soon as I’m done.”

 

She smirked slightly, her eyes narrowing a bit as she regarded him.  Then she asked, “Is that a promise, Commander?  Last time I allowed you to resume work you never did join me...and then I drank too much and made a complete fool of myself.  A lady should never be stood up twice...especially one with daggers.”

 

A blush crept into his cheeks when he realized he had infact hurt her that night, even if she had never admitted it.  The only fool in the entire situation it seemed was him.

 

“You have my word,” he said softly, slowly meeting her eyes.

 

She was smiling, and it seemed her whole face seemed to brighten.  In the candlelight her eyes sparkled, and it caused his breath to catch in his throat.  It was then he realized he would give anything to see her smiling and free of all her worries all the time.  Before he could process what was happening, she had leaned in and placed a quick, soft kiss on his cheek.  He froze in stunned silence as she quickly rose from her spot on the bench and started towards the door.

 

“Try not to keep me waiting too long,” she said as she left him alone in the now silent Chantry.

 

***************************

 

With the release of a single flaming arrow it all came crashing down around him.

 

He had been at the gate when the watchguard’s report came in.  The weight that had been lifted from his shoulders in the Chantry slammed down upon him once more, and he knew this was the moment he had been dreading all along.  He had learned over the years to never trust in the good times, and he knew now he should have remembered life’s hard learned lessons and not given in to the optimism Evelyn seemed to draw forth.

 

He had watched with Leliana and Josephine as Haven was buried beneath the avalanche, crushing the village.  Her companions stood with them, no one daring to say a word.  He had surely allowed her to go to her death alone and the weight of that decision caused his chest to burn with the pain of what had been lost.

 

Now, standing at the edge of their makeshift camp, he couldn’t take his eyes off the horizon.  Cassandra had taken to making circles around the camp, passing by every few moments.  With each lap she made his slight lingering hope dwindled a little more.

 

If Evelyn had survived the avalanche she would be out there in the freezing cold.  They had tried to leave a trail for her to follow, but how long could she hold on in these conditions?  Time was not on her side, and each passing minute the ache he felt deepened.  He had failed to protect her.  He had failed her and now she was gone.  He had allowed himself to hope, to feel, and she had been ripped away from him.

 

It seemed that in the eyes of the Maker his life was to be a cruel joke.  Any bit of happiness he managed to allow himself was generally ripped away.

 

A spark of bright green caught his eye and for a moment he forgot to breathe.  Could the vision be real or was it simply his mind playing tricks on him?  Taking a deep but shaky breath, he realized a figure was materializing on the horizon.  Offering his thanks to the Maker he started towards her, shrugging the fur lined decorative pauldrons from his shoulders.

 

She was alive.  She had come back to them, back to him.  It would take time for his mind to let go of the vision of Haven being covered in snow and ice, but she had somehow managed to survive.  The bigger miracle was that she had fought her way through the freezing mountain air to find their camp.

 

“There!  It’s her!” he called out, rushing towards Evelyn as she collapsed to her knees in the snow.

 

Wrapping the fabric around her he could see that her lips were nearly blue as she she shivered violently in the cold.  Her leather armour was soaked through, surely providing no warmth at this point.  For a moment their eyes met as he scooped her up into his arms, lifting her from the snow.  She rested her head against his chest, her body relaxing in his arms as she continued to shiver from exposure.

 

“She needs warmth,” Cassandra said, following him back towards the camp.  Turning to one of the scouts she ordered, “Find Solas.”

 

“C..Cullen,” Evelyn said, her trembling voice barely above a whisper.  “I…”

 

“Shhh,” he said softly, his arms wrapping more firmly around her body.  “Just rest now...you’re safe.”

 

She gave a shaky sigh and he felt her eyelashes brush against his cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed.  In his arms she felt so small, her trembling form vulnerable in away that affected him at his very core.  Perhaps he had not been able to protected her in Haven, but he would not fail her now.

  
As Cullen carried Evelyn’s limp form in his arms he knew he had been given yet another precious chance.  They faced a new foe, but she had survived and she had returned.  He would not be caught ill prepared a second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own anything from DA. This chapter has a small, tiny snippet of dialogue from DA:I.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you again for those who are supporting the story. I hope you enjoy the chapter.


	10. Chapter 9

The first thing Evelyn noticed when she woke was that she was dry and warm.  Her armor had been removed and she was wearing a simple tunic and covered by several blankets.  It was a cozy feeling and a nice change from her final memories before she had lost consciousness in Cullen’s arms.  She wasn’t sure how long she had walked through that snow, but she was thankful for the markers they had left for her to follow.  In the cold the camp fires had often been the only thing to keep her moving forward as she would feel a little burst of energy every time she would come upon some evidence of their journey.

 

The second thing she noticed was that her hand was currently being held by a very warm, larger one.

 

Slowly she opened her eyes, glancing at her surroundings.  She could see the canvas walls of a tent, various potion bottles sat near a supply bag in the opposite corner.  Many of the glass flasks were empty, evidence of the work that had been done on her during the night.  Finding the camp it seemed had only been the beginning.  She wasn’t sure how badly she had been injured in the fall, or how much her body had shut down during her journey through the snow.  When she collapsed she felt her world growing small, as if she was slipping away, and she knew she would not have survived much longer.

 

Then her eyes fell on the owner of the hand which was holding her own.  Cullen was sitting next to the makeshift cot, head bowed and eyes closed.  His lips were moving silently, praying as he kept vigil.

 

Silently observing him, tried to enjoy this quiet moment.  It would be over too soon and his hand would no longer be wrapped tenderly around hers.  Reality waited just outside the tent.  Right now, in that very moment, however it was just the two of them.  She could almost pretend in the warmth of the tent that the Inquisition and Corypheus didn’t exist and the world wouldn’t come crashing down upon them again without warning.

 

When his lips paused in his silent prayer she gently squeezed his hand.  His warm brown eyes snapped open in surprise, finding hers immediately.  A blush crept into his cheeks and she couldn’t help but give him a soft smile.  When she first heard his voice ring out through the night she had thought it a dream, a fantasy caused her failing body.  He had been her hero in that moment as he scooped her up out of snow with ease, his strength allowing her to feel safe and secure.

 

“Thank the Maker you’re awake,” he said, his voice perhaps the softest she had ever heard it.  “I...How are you feeling?”

 

“Like a mountain collapsed on me,” Evelyn retorted with a smirk, her voice dry and raspy from the cold and lack of use.

 

“You gave us quite a scare,” he told her, reaching out to brush the hair away from her face with his free hand.  “Solas, Dorian, and Vivienne spent most of the night healing you...but there were a few times we feared you might be lost to us.”

 

“Corypheus is still out there,” she said, weakly trying to push herself up to a seated position as he retrieved a small canteen of water.

 

Her body trembled with exhaustion and, much to her embarrassment, he had to help her drink.  Weakness was not something she was used to showing.  It had certainly never been tolerated by her parents and she had learned from a young age to always show the world only strength.  Being a disappointment was not an option, and humor and flirtation had become her way of hiding away her feelings.

 

The concern in his eyes was obvious as he assisted her, and she wished she could ease his worries.  He seemed to have enough of his own troubles without adding her own to his list.  Yet there he sat, offering his quiet strength and watching over her.

 

“I know,” he said.  “For now it appears we’re safe.  Thanks to you.”  Setting aside the canteen when she had finished he added, “You should try to rest some more.”

 

Settling back onto the cot she looked up at him, noting that the circles under his eyes seemed darker than usual.  The evacuation from Haven and the journey through the frozen mountains had obviously taken its toll on him as well.  She felt her brow furrow a bit as she wondered how long he had been keeping watch over her and if he had allowed himself a break at all during the journey into the mountains.

 

“You should also be resting,” she told him, taking ahold of his hand once more, her voice slightly more clear.  “I’m fine...I…”

 

“Solas will be by shortly to check on you,” he said cutting her off, “and I’m sure Dorian will be with him and can take my place.  I don’t think you should be left alone just yet.  Nor do I think you should be worrying about me.”

 

His fingers had tightened around hers once more as he looked down and studied their hands.  There was a part of her that wondered if there was more to his reluctance to leave her side.  If there roles were reversed she was relatively certain she would want to be completely sure of his recovery before leaving him.  She would certainly do everything she could for any of her companions or advisors, but in the quiet moments when she was able to be honest with herself she knew she considered her relationship with Cullen to be special.  She hoped something was blossoming, but fear of another rejection often kept her from examining things too closely.

 

“When will you learn I can’t not worry?” she asked him with a smirk.  Then, looking at him seriously she added, “Thank you.”

 

“For what?” he asked, his confusion evident and she couldn’t help the small, soft smile that formed on her lips.

 

“For keeping watch for me,” she told him.  “I don’t think I could have made it even another step...I...Thank you for not giving up on me.”

 

“I...I’ve not had a lot of luck with optimism,” he replied, a sad, half smile tugging at his lips, “but I couldn’t bring myself to abandon hope that you could come back to m..us.”

 

Bringing her hand to his lips he brushed a soft kiss across her fingers and Evelyn felt her breath catch in her throat.  She had thought for a moment she heard him start to say she had come back to him, but she couldn’t be sure.  Whatever sort of relationship they had, it was fragile and she refused to push too hard and risk losing it all.  She had her walls and her baggage, and she was well aware that he obviously had his as well.  It didn’t take much for their interactions to explode into arguments and she knew she had to tread carefully to preserve both their hearts.  They were both strong willed and opinionated, and she wondered how long before she infuriated him once more.

 

“Rest,” he told her, bringing their hands back down to the cot once more.  “When Solas and Dorian return I promise I will try to do the same.”

 

“I have your word?” she asked, narrowing her eyes playfully.  When he gave a small nod she smiled a bit smugly.  

 

“Maker’s breath, you truly can’t help yourself, can you?” he asked with a smirk.

 

“Nope, I really can’t,” she replied, closing her eyes.  “It’s part of my charm.”

 

She heard a soft, low chuckle as she got as comfortable as one could on a cot.  The sound sent a wave of warmth through her body.  She wondered if he had any idea the effect he often had on her, but she left the topic alone for now.  They had all been through so much, and the middle of a camp was not the place for such a conversation.

 

His hand remained in hers as she drifted off to sleep and she was vaguely aware of his thumb brushing comforting circles across her knuckles.

 

***************************

 

Wandering through the camp, Evelyn tried to process everything that had happened the last few days.  The Breach was closed, but Haven was gone, buried the avalanche she had caused.  The Inquisition was homeless, making do with limited supplies and a makeshift camp.  She had nearly died, her return to the Inquisition only seeming to further elevate her as some sort of symbol.  Mother Giselle had played her part and Evelyn had watched in amazement as the forces gathered around her, joining in the Revered Mother’s song.

 

There was still no firm plan for the Inquisition’s next course of action and she stopped on the opposite side of the camp to regard Cassandra and Cullen scrutinize the map of Fereldan with Leliana and Josephine nearby she felt her nerves flutter in her stomach.  They had all stopped arguing, but it seemed they were no closer to an answer.  The frustration would bubble up again and boil over unless she could gain their trust.

 

The moment she had decided to sacrifice herself by facing Corypheus she had started down a path she could no longer turn away from, and it meant she had to accept that she had to play a part in truly bringing the members of the Inquisition together.  She needed the faith of their leaders, for them to stand behind her and support her choice to follow Solas’ advice.  They could have home, if they followed her.

 

“They’ve gone from yelling at each other to not speaking at all,” Varric’s voice said, drawing her from her thoughts.  “They don’t realize they’re undermining all the good the Revered Mother did with that song.”

 

“None of us were prepared for this,” Evelyn said, looking over at the dwarf.  “Their world was shaken too.”

 

“You and Chuckles have a good talk then?” he asked and she felt the corner of her mouth pull up into a half smile.

 

“We did,” she confirmed.  “Now, comes the difficult part…”

 

Biting her lower lip she crossed the camp and approached the table, noting that Leliana and Josephine ceased their private discussion to watch her.  Cassandra’s eyes remained fixed on the map, and Cullen had folded his arms over his chest as he watched her approach.

 

“The answer isn’t on that map,” Evelyn said, keeping her voice steady, trying to remain rooted in her inner strength.

 

Cassandra glanced up at her, slowly straightening her spine and looked expectantly at Evelyn.  They had come a long way since the day the sky had been ripped open and the Conclave destroyed.  Evelyn had hoped she had earned the Seeker’s respect given the other woman had followed her countless times in the field.  At first she had found the change unsettling, but now the quiet support often gave Evelyn the push she needed to step up and do what needed to be done.

 

“We have to go somewhere,” Cullen responded, breaking the silence.  “We can’t keep wandering around in the snow aimlessly.”

 

“I’m not saying that,” Evelyn told him, meeting his eyes with the best hard stare she could muster.  “We need to go to the north.  There is…”

 

“There is nothing to the north but mountains,” he said, shaking his head and looking away.  “We need allies.”

 

Evelyn took a steadying breath, trying not to lose her temper at his inability to listen to her.  For someone who could in private be so tender and caring, Cullen also had an infuriating ability to be stubborn and pigheaded when it came to the council.  In the back of her mind Evelyn was aware of what he thought of her leadership abilities and it caused a suspicion that there was a lack of respect as she was not seen as an equal.  It played on her insecurities, that feeling that she would be cast aside by him once a better offer came along, and she beat back the feelings to focus on her goal.

 

“Leliana,” she said, turning to the spymaster who had risen to approach the table with the map, “how far north have your people been able to scout?”

 

“A few miles,” was the response.  “They believe there is a pass through the mountains, but they did not fully explore it.”

 

“Then we will,” Evelyn responded, and she noted the small nod from Leliana.  “Our answer...our future lies to the north.  If there was nothing there then there would be no pass.”

 

“Much of that area has been uncharted,” Cassandra offered, her eyes dipping back down to the map.  “Without the support of Ferelden or Orlais there are few options available.”

 

Josephine had also approached the table, slowly nodding her consent and added, “Our next move is perhaps one of the most important decisions the Inquisition will be faced with.  While we have gained some influence, our alliances are not nearly strong enough.  The Inquisition must stand on its own if we wish to succeed.”

 

With a huff Cullen finally spoke again, his voice taking a bit of an edge as he said, “Have any of you stopped to consider what this plan will actually mean?  We will parading the injured and sick through the mountains on a hunch that there is something to the north!  Just because there is a pass does not mean it goes anywhere.  We don’t know what lies ahead...or what enemies we might face.”

 

“What are our options then?  To stay here and wait to freeze to death?” Evelyn countered, the volume of her voice raising slightly.  “We have to try.  I will not simply sit and wait for Corypheus to decide to finish what he started.  I also do not for a moment believe that you think that is the correct course of action.”

 

With a sigh he ran a hand over his face and then met her eyes once more, finally he said, “Evelyn...there are too many lives to risk on the unknown.”

 

It was the first time he had used her name while discussing Inquisition business.  There was a slight softening in his eyes, his amber gaze changing slightly as they looked at each other across the table.  He wasn’t seeing the Herald any longer, instead he saw her and that meant she had a chance to get through to him.  She understood his opposition, and his hesitancy to trust.  It was true she was previously untested, yet Corypheus had changed everything.

 

“I would not risk our people on a fool’s errand,” she said, moving around the table to stand before him.  “Cullen, we can not continue to do nothing.  Corypheus will be back and if he finds us here, struggling, we will be an even easier target than we were in Haven.”

 

They regarded each other for a moment, his eyes searching hers, and Evelyn did her best to remain strong under his scrutiny.  If he knew how many times he had made her feel like the small unsure child she was convinced he often believed her to be then he would never accept her as an equal.

 

“Please, Cullen,” she said softly, “I know you think I’m impulsive and inexperienced…That I put my team at risk unnecessarily by wanting to help everyone I can, but I need you to try to look beyond that.  I would not ask this if I did not truly believe it was the right answer.”

 

His hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he looked down and away from her gaze, and Evelyn was sure she had hit a nerve.  Turning back around to the table she said, “I have spent months doing everything that was asked, trusting in all of you and learning whatever I could from your examples.  You all placed your faith in me in Haven and allowed me to take a stand for the Inquisition.  I’m asking you to trust me one more time.  I need your faith now more than ever.”

 

The women around the table nodded their consent and she heard Cullen take few steps forward to stand next to her, his eyes fixed on the map on the table.  Turning her head to glance over him she waited, wondering if he would continue to oppose the plan or if she had truly won.  His silence caused her stomach to flutter nervously but she ignored her feelings as she refused to show weakness now.  If she was to win his respect and win this argument he could not sense the internal battle.

  
“I will start to organize our forces,” he said finally, looking over at Evelyn giving the faintest smile.  “We will follow you to the north.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I own nothing related to Dragon Age.


End file.
